Brontide

Sunlight was attempting to force its way through my closed eyelids.

I grabbed onto the pillow that was underneath my hand, clutching it between my fingers, and squinted my eyes shut even tighter. Turning away from the light source, I let out a great yawn and sighed deeply. My mouth felt like I'd ingested cotton and I was very thirsty. On top of that, my stomach had started making strange noises and I knew it'd been a long time since I'd eaten, but...

My face was nestled into the pillow, and when I inhaled I recognized the scent right away, my eyes flying open and my body sitting upright.

Fred.

My breathing came in great, heaving gasps when I realized where I was. The sun shone through the striped drapes that were hanging over the window, particles of dust hovering in the air. The streak marks on the walls were exactly as I remembered them too, and when I looked to the bed opposite Fred's I could see a figure with its back to me, hidden under a set of sheets that matched the ones I was laying on.

I'd woken up at the Burrow, or more specifically – Fred and George's old room. I couldn't remember how I got there, and I couldn't remember changing into the nightgown I was wearing, either. But as I sat there in the early hours of the third of May, not realizing that I'd been asleep for nearly twenty-four hours, waves of pain started washing over me from every possible direction.

Not only did my entire body ache terribly – particularly my head, my left arm and both legs – but my heart began to twist cruelly when I remembered exactly why I was in Fred's bed alone.

There were many parts from that night that were a blur, which made sense considering how many times I'd smashed my head, but nothing, nothing would've been able to make me forget the blank faces and idle stares that were burned into my memory permanently. They existed there to haunt me forever, to remind me that nothing in life was everlasting, especially not in the life I had. The people I cared about all just seemed to vanish, gone in an instant like the wind. I was almost positive I'd seen them in my dreams, too. I knew it was very likely that I would for a long time.

Somewhere buried in my grief was a thought, a notion that I'd had before when I found out about my parents, and even earlier than that when I lost my grandmother. That thought was to leave everything behind and go, just go, because the remaining people in my life deserved to live happily and without worry. How could I continue to be around them when I half expected death to follow close behind?

It almost felt inevitable. Who would be next? Angelina? Mrs. Weasley? Lee? Devon?

I sat there, completely frozen with wide eyes, for who knows how long. My hand was over my mouth to keep my crying quiet so I wouldn't wake George.

George.

My eyes hovered on his sleeping form for a long time, my mouth now pressed into the pillow so my rasping sobs came out muffled. I honestly didn't know how I could possibly have any tears left, and perhaps that was why I felt so dehydrated, but my thoughts began to stray somewhere a lot less selfish.

Slowly, I swung my feet over the side of the bed and, trying to keep my wobbly legs steady, I tip-toed across the floorboards and opened the bedroom door. The rest of the house was quiet, and I thought it might've been too early for anyone else to be awake, but I closed the door behind me as I stepped onto the landing. As I began to walk away I heard it through the wall, confirming what I suspected – George had been awake, and the moment I left the room was when he let himself cry. I hesitated for a moment, but with a few deeps breaths, I forced myself to move away.

I wanted to give him space, to give him time to grieve alone, so I locked myself in the bathroom and started running the tub water. The tartan nightgown pooled at my feet and with some difficulty, my undergarments soon joined it. Nearly every movement I made caused me to wince in pain, and when I turned around I caught my reflection in the cracked mirror that hung above the sink. I nearly did a double take.

It was the first time I'd seen my face in two days, and sweet Merlin, I looked a right mess.

Aside from the blotchiness and puffy eyes from crying, there were dark circles under my eyes as well and dried blood residue had stained parts of my face and hair. There were some light scratches across my cheeks and a few bruises on my face and arms. The splinching scar was slightly more raised than normal but at least it'd stopped bleeding, though it continued to throb dully.

But perhaps what scared me the most was how dead my eyes looked. They had a hollow appearance that I wasn't used to, and I leaned closer to the mirror to get a better look at them. They were still the same shade of blue, they still had rims of gray around the outside of the irises, and yet something was different. Something had changed.

When the tub water was full enough, I carefully lowered myself in and silently reveled in how the hot water felt against my skin. I scrubbed away the dirt, dried blood, sweat, all of the leftover nastiness, and when I looked down at my legs through the murky water, not only did I see the thick line that stretched along the outside of my thigh – there was a new mark.

My right ankle had an angry red burn that went around it like a ring, the tender flesh tingling and reminding me of its presence.

I stared at it with apprehension for a little while. If anything, it served as a reminder of my actions; a memento from the whole disaster and gifted by Maratross himself. He would never truly be gone, even though his corpse was decomposing in the Forbidden Forest while I soaked in the bath, trying to scrub away the troubled thoughts that came with remembering my interactions with him.

We're not dissimilar, you and I. We both want revenge for people the other killed.

Absentmindedly, I was rubbing my arms which I'd already cleaned, initially finding the idea of myself and Maratross being alike repulsive and entirely ludicrous. There was no way...

And then I thought of how he'd hunted me down, wanting to cause me terrible pain before putting me out of my misery. I'd gone after him with the same intentions, and my eyes widened in horror when I realized that no matter what my reasons were, there truly was no difference. We were similar in the worst possible way. I hadn't been able to see it while my judgment was clouded over like that.

I sunk down further into the tub, my nose hovering just above the waterline and my arms wrapped around my torso tightly, either from how scared I was feeling or because the water temperature had turned cold, I didn't know.

...keeping you alive after losing everything is a worse punishment than death.

My hands had balled into tight fists and I was doing everything I could to try and snap myself out of this state. My body trembled and I bit down hard on my bottom lip to stay quiet, my nails pressed into my palms painfully. I took deep, shaky breaths, silently praying to whatever possible deity who might've been listening in protest of the crushing anxiety I was experiencing, hoping that this wouldn't become the new normal.

My head turned to the door when I heard someone knock softly. I'd forgotten to lock it, so my words came out a bit panicked. “Sorry, I'll be just a moment!”

I dried myself off and unplugged the drain. My clothes were back on and I took a quick glance at myself in the mirror, thinking I looked only mildly better than earlier, before opening the door. Standing in front of me was a half-awake Ron, his red hair sticking up in various directions and his eyes heavy with fatigue. We stared at each other silently; hovering around us was an air of discomfort.

Ron rubbed the back of his neck and his eyes averted to the floor. He was the first to say anything. “Hey, Cassie...I, um...I'm really sorry about...well, y'know. Don't think I got the chance to tell you that, but they were really important to you, so – ”

I cut him off by pulling him in for a hug. His arms hung uncertainly at his sides. “I'm sorry, too,” I said barely above a whisper.

He slowly reciprocated the embrace and I pulled away a moment later, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. Ron maneuvered around me and was about to shut the bathroom door behind him, but my mouth opened again.

“You'll have to tell me all about it when we find the time,” I said quietly, “what you were up to for the past year, I mean. I'm sure it's miles more interesting than our story.”

His hand rested on the doorknob, a tiny smile appearing on his face. “Yeah, I will...and Cassie?” I looked back at him over my shoulder. “Fred, he...he really loved you, y'know.”

I found myself unable to say anything more so I swallowed the lump in my throat, answering with a nod before walking away.

When I entered the bedroom again, George was awake and lying on his back with his hands behind his head. With how his eyes looked, I thought he hadn't actually slept in a long time. I gently shut the door and sat down on the empty bed, my fingers going to pick up Rae's wand which had been sticking out of the sheets. George's head turned slightly and his eyes followed my movements, my attention focused on the carved wood that laid across my palms.

“That's hers, isn't it?” His voice was groggy.

My gaze flitted up to him, silently nodding.

“I only just noticed. Yours broke, right?”

I nodded again, feeling slightly nervous that he wasn't happy about me using Rae's wand.

George's expression was soft though. “I reckon she'd want you to have it. That's just the kind of person she – ”

I watched helplessly as his features tensed up, attempting to get a hold of himself. He let out a thick sigh and his hand came up to rub his face.

“You've been asleep almost a full day, y'know. Mum thought it best to let you get some shut-eye after everything that happened, said we could all use the rest.” He looked straight at me, something like desperation showing through his exhaustion. “I haven't slept one bit, though, and I'm so bloody tired, Cass...I even went back to Rae's last night to get our things.”

My eyes followed where he motioned to and I saw our bags piled next to the desk, Nestor's empty cage there as well.

“All I heard yesterday when we got back was Mum's crying,” his voice cracked, causing my heart to ache once more. “Every time I close my eyes I can't help but see them, all pale and broken like dolls...no one should ever have to see that.”

“I could possibly whip up a Sleeping Draught for you,” I said quietly, “I'm sure I have the recipe for it somewhere.”

The flat – that's where it was, still buried among the textbooks in my school trunk. It would've meant going home.

George just shook his head. “It's alright, I know I'll get tired enough eventually. Don't want you to worry about something like that right now. Besides, are your injuries doing alright? Must be feeling right sore, you seemed to be running on adrenaline.”

How the hell am I not supposed to worry?

“I definitely feel it now,” I muttered, “but it's nothing unmanageable. I'll heal fine.”

We fell into a somewhat comfortable silence and I could hear footsteps on the stairs, signaling that the others were starting to get up. My stomach rumbled again at the prospect of breakfast, but before I could move, I began to recall the faintest bits of a memory.

“Do you remember me asking Kingsley to do something?” I asked George uncertainly.

It'd been a favor, though I couldn't place what it was. I'd asked for Kingsley's help countless times over the previous few years because of how much I trusted him, and I felt as though I needed to make it up to him somehow.

He'd started sitting up in his bed, his legs swinging over the side. “You don't remember? Kingsley's Minister of Magic now, so that coupled with his good relationship with the Muggle Prime Minister could make it easy to track Devon down.”

My memory still felt foggy but I couldn't imagine what else it could've been. The man definitely deserved the position with all he'd done, and I knew he'd be fantastic. At the possibility of seeing my brother again, I wasn't able to pin which emotion I was feeling – nervousness, excitement, fear, apprehension – they were all swimming around within me like a torrent.

I looked up when George started heading towards the door. “C'mon, you should eat something. Your stomach's been growling like a bloody bear this entire time.”

Unable to argue with how hungry I was, I followed him down to the kitchen, my nose immediately picking up on the smell of eggs and bacon cooking. A large part of me was nervous to see Mrs. Weasley since I was unsure that I'd really be able to comfort her if she broke down. She wasn't in the kitchen though; instead, I saw the long, straight-haired mane that belonged to Ginny. She glanced back at George and I as we descended the creaking stairs.

“'Morning,” she said quietly, turning back to the frying pan in front of her.

We muttered out greetings and sat down across from each other. There was a pitcher of orange juice with a few empty mugs already on the table, so I poured myself one and gulped it down quickly, refilling the glass. George sipped at his quietly, pinching the bridge of his nose and looking down at the table. I nursed my drink in my hands and found myself at a loss for words again. The sounds of meat and eggs sizzling filled the lull.

“Do you need any help, Ginny?” I asked quietly, figuring lending a hand was the least I could do. I'd always offered my help to Mrs. Weasley in the kitchen but she never allowed me to lift a finger.

Ginny had begun slicing tomatoes. “No, it's quite alright. I thought I'd help Mum out so she can rest a bit longer. She's been, well...” She paused to look at George, which she'd done a few times since we sat down. “Dad's been comforting her ever since I woke up.”

George didn't miss her awkward stares, his mouth turning down in a scowl before drinking some more juice. Ginny put a few dishes down with sausages, eggs, and bacon piled onto them, the tomatoes sizzling and popping in the pan behind her. I could physically feel the discomfort between the two of them. I knew why it was happening but there wasn't anything I could've done about it, not unless I suddenly had the ability to bring Fred and Rae back from the dead.

I started eating my breakfast in silence, suddenly feeling a little less hungry.

Ron and Harry came down soon after and seated themselves near George and I. Harry's eyes were on Ginny most of the time and the two of them exchanged small smiles when she sat down with the rest of us. Part of me wanted to ask Harry and Ron about their adventures just then, anything to keep the silence away, but I sensed this wasn't the time for that, and with all of us back together I knew we'd have countless opportunities.

Ron was in the middle of talking about how Hermione had left at the crack of dawn to bring her parents back home, how she'd erased their memories and sent them to Australia for their protection. Over the scraping of utensils on plates, I heard what sounded like someone tapping on glass, the five of us looking around for the source.

Right outside the window over the sink was a large brown owl with feathers that stuck up like ears. It didn't look like any of ours, certainly not Nestor or Pigwidgeon, but George stood up and allowed it inside. Its wings flapped a few times before it landed on the countertop in a mess of feathers. George carefully untied the letters attached to its legs – four letters in total – and glanced at them briefly before handing them over to me, Harry, and Ron, opening one for himself. My fingers wrapped around the parchment uncertainly. The seal that George had opened was gold with the letter M stamped on it.

“It's from Kingsley.”

I unrolled mine and my eyes scanned the paper anxiously:

To Miss Cassiopeia Bains,

Please know that we are doing whatever we can to locate Devon Bains for you. I don't anticipate it to take much longer but there is quite a bit going on at the Ministry right now. I very nearly lost my quill amongst a pile of missing hippogriff reports.

However, I am writing to you for an entirely different purpose. I'd like to formally extend an invitation to you in regards to joining the Auror Office. The Ministry...

My eyes hovered over the words “joining the Auror Office”, my mouth hanging open slightly in disbelief. Was he pulling my leg?

The Ministry is in desperate need of capable witches and wizards to help hunt down the rest of Lord Voldemort's followers. It is in my opinion that you've proved your skills in combat and I fully believe that, should you decide to accept the offer, you could be an important asset to helping reform the Auror Office to what it once was. I will say that the training takes up to three years and is very challenging, but part of that training will be aiding in rounding up the last of the Death Eaters so they can be brought to justice.

I am aware of the losses you sustained during the last battle and I send you my deepest condolences. Losing Remus and Tonks was quite the blow and I'm hoping my new position will keep me preoccupied. Please take some time to consider my invitation before responding, but know that you have the potential to help reshape our world.

Sincerely,

Kingsley Shacklebolt

Minister of Magic

I wasn't able to tear my eyes away from the parchment but I could hear the others discussing their letters, confirming that Kingsley had invited them to join the Aurors as well.

“I didn't get the required grades to become an Auror, though,” Harry said to Ron. “Is he really able to do this?”

“I reckon not many people would argue with him about this decision,” Ron said thoughtfully, “not with the state the Ministry's in right now. Hell, I had worse marks than you and still got an invitation. Destroying You-Know-Who definitely didn't hurt our chances.”

“It's what I've wanted to do for a while, so I can't see myself turning it down,” Harry said quietly. He looked over at Ginny, who'd been pushing bits of egg around her plate. “What do you think?”

“It's literally what you've been doing for the past year, isn't it? You'd just be getting paid for it.” She wiped her mouth with a napkin. “I honestly wish I was of age so I could help.”

“Right, well I'll do it if you will, mate,” Ron said to his best friend, the two of them nodding in solidarity. “How about you, Cass?”

I put the parchment down. “I'll have to put a lot of thought into this. It's kind of a big deal, is it not? I hadn't exactly planned on becoming a dark wizard catcher. I'd have been content with helping to run the joke shop.”

Ron and I looked to George, who'd crumpled his letter into a ball and was tossing it in the bin. He left the room without looking at any of us, no more words exchanged, before disappearing upstairs.

***

The next few days were some of the most agonizing of my entire life.

The last funeral I'd gone to was Dumbledore's and that had been sad enough. I'd hoped that would be it for a long time, yet here I was, facing three different funerals on three consecutive days. Nothing could've prepared me for this, no matter how many times I ran it over in my head.

And then there was George, who barely said a word to anyone leading up to the service for Remus and Tonks, not even to me and I was the one sharing a room with him. His mother would start crying anytime he walked into the room and Ginny would stare at him when she thought he wasn't looking. Mr. Weasley had even called him Fred once entirely by accident, and the look of heartbreak he wore when his twin's name was used on him...I never wanted to see him like that again. I felt it was important to help him even though I knew the efforts were futile, but I did try to bring up other things.

None of it was really helpful though, but how could I have expected to really make him feel any better? How does one comfort someone who's suffering as much as they are?

All three funerals would be held at the Burrow per Mrs. Weasley's insistence. How she managed to get in contact with people who'd known Tonks and Remus, or even Rae's family, was entirely beyond me. That morning, there were several chairs lined up in the orchard though, something Mr. Weasley had done after telling his wife to lie down, her hysterics peaking to the point where she couldn't get words out.

In the rucksack that George retrieved, I had nothing that could be considered suitable for a funeral and I had to seek Ginny's help. Merlin knows I was not ready to return to the flat, where I definitely had at least one black dress. Ginny was happy to help, lending me a simple black dress that went to my knees and covered my shoulders with sheer fabric. Whilst fussing with my hair, I had another anxiety attack before everyone else arrived. It resulted in me cutting my hair to my shoulders using Rae's wand, the length of knotted blond waves disposed of before I composed myself and reluctantly made my way to the orchard.

The sun was low in the sky, colors that a painter would use appearing above the treeline and the rolling hills. George sat next to me while the little wizard from Bill and Fleur's wedding went on about eternal love, how with a love as strong as Remus and Nymphadora's it was impossible for their legacy to die. Off to my left in the row in front of us was a brunette woman holding a baby boy on her lap, hugging him to her tightly as she sobbed quietly. The boy's hair was bright teal and his chubby little arms reached out to where the two cloth-covered figures lay on stone podiums. Teddy's Godfather, Harry, sat next to them in silence, his face pale and his gaze focused on the trees ahead.

I averted my eyes as the tears started to come again, my fists clenched tightly in my lap. My attention drifted away from the wizard's words and I couldn't help but think about that little boy growing up without parents. It just wasn't fair, none of it was. And when I tried to sleep that night, I found it impossible to remove the image of tiny Teddy Lupin from my head.

On the following day, it was Rae.

Not too long before the service started it'd begun to rain. I hadn't bothered to wear something different because I truly didn't care how I looked. I was going to be a sopping mess by the end of it, and I was spot on about that, even with the charm above us that kept the rain out. We sat in the very front row this time, getting a full view of the shape of Rae's body under the fabric. I'd been letting the tears flow silently while the same wizard went on about her courage, but the moment I glanced over to George was when I broke. Hunched over, his head was clutched between his hands while he sobbed, his whole body shaking. I wrapped an arm around his back and he put one around my shoulders, the two of us trying to find some sort of comfort through the blinding tears.

Off to the right of us, I saw Lee and Angelina huddled together, their faces streaked with sadness, and in the row ahead I saw them – Rae's parents.

Rae's mother, who looked like an older version of her with longer hair, was crying into a handkerchief. Her father's dark hair was graying and his sun-kissed face stared at the spot where his daughter's body was covered, his expression one of shock. My blood was beginning to boil upon seeing them and George felt my arm tense up, causing him to follow where I was glaring.

“I know what you wanna do, Cass,” he said quietly, “and I'm all for it, but today's not the day, alright?”

I sniffled angrily in response, my teeth bearing down hard in restraint. I turned away from them and gave George a slight nod, listening as the rain pounded away at the spell above. My eyes stayed on Rae the rest of the time, and that night I had a nightmare once I'd finally cried myself to sleep.

I was back at her funeral but I was alone this time, her body resting on the same podium, wrapped in the same cloth. Unsure of what to do with myself, I'd walked closer and closer until I was mere feet away. Her body suddenly sat upright and the cloth fell off her top half, revealing a rotting, disfigured version of Rae with her eyeballs falling out of her head and her skin melting off. I stumbled backward in horror and landed on the ground, trying to scramble away, when decaying hands burst through the grass and started grabbing at me. I was screaming desperately, clawing at the ground as they started to pull me under, hoping that someone could hear me, anyone –

My thrashing, screaming form had woken up George, and I felt his hands on my shoulders as he tried to wake me out of my nightmare. My eyes flew open and I was gasping for air, my hand closing around Rae's wand which I'd been keeping under the pillow. I realized George was standing next to the bed and he slowly retracted his hands when he noticed I was waking up. He looked exhausted but also bloody terrified at the same time. I apologized for startling him and we both attempted to sleep again, but I found myself unable to close my eyes and laid there until I heard other people moving around the house.

Fred's was last.

While I sat in the front with the Weasleys, George on one side and Ron on the other, I stared blankly at Fred's hidden corpse. I was so emotionally drained by this point, so exhausted, that I couldn't cry anymore. I was simply empty. The cries from Mrs. Weasley and the others were heart-wrenching to hear and I wanted to let the tears out, I truly did, but my face was barren. Even Ron was crying, his right hand clasped tightly in Hermione's while she whispered comfort to him.

The little wizard's speech about Fred's bravery and talent went on for a long time, and near the end I noticed George get up from his seat. He hadn't shed tears either, but through most of it, I did see a harrowing look of loneliness etched on his freckled face. I silently wondered what it was he was doing when he walked over to Fred's podium, his back to everyone while he fished around for something in the interior of his dress robes. The little wizard had fallen silent, every set of eyes now focused on George.

When he pulled something from his pocket and crouched to the ground, my eyes widened in realization and the tears began to sting again.

Oh my god...he remembered.

***

The dim light of the common room's dying fire had a comforting effect on the four of us, so much so that Rae had passed out in the squishy armchair, curled up under a blanket that George had put on her. We'd been practicing with the DA earlier in the day and had gotten to talking about the war, wondering if Death Eaters ever bothered to disarm or if they always went for the kill.

“I mean, they don't always kill right away,” Fred pointed out. “Take Bellatrix Lestrange for example. She prefers to torture her victims into insanity first, at least that's what I heard.”

“But do you think they'd ever disarm someone?” I asked pointedly, the question being one that came to mind after practice.

“It doesn't really matter in the end, does it?” George said quietly. “If they want you dead, the goal will always be just that. Death. They don't really care how they get there.”

We sat together on the sofa in silence, Rae's quiet breathing the only noise we heard.

Fred leaned back against the cushions, his legs sprawled out in front of him. “I've heard loads of stories about the First Wizarding War,” he started slowly, “and one thing that remains the same is the high casualty rate, especially on the Order's side.” George and I looked at him with curiosity. “I know it may seem far-fetched, but...what do you think our chances are of coming out of this together?”

My heart was beating rapidly while he said this, my mind screaming in protest at the idea of any one of us not making it. It was a morbid thought for Fred to bring up. “Fred, I don't think you should worry about that right now. We have time before school's over and the DA's been helping us learn a lot of useful things, hasn't it? That should count for something.”

“It's never too soon to think about these things,” he said somberly, “so if it's me that goes, I don't want you lot crying too much at my funeral. I'd better go out with a bang so everyone can remember me as I am right now. I fully expect a display of fireworks the size of Britain itself.” He waited a moment for us to respond, George and I exchanging worried glances. “Alright?”

“Bold of you to assume you'll eat it before I do,” George said with half a smile.

Fred's mouth turned up in a grin. “Bold of you to flood Filch's office without me, tosser.”

***

Some people were startled at first, but everyone's eyes were fixated on them in awe.

Flashes of brightly-colored lights lit up the sky and caused the ground to rumble with their booms. They whizzed and popped, crackling and falling above us like melting stars. The fireworks defied the fact that it was still bright outside and illuminated the onlookers in dazzling blues, purples, greens, and yellows. The swirled and spun in the air before breaking off into complex shapes – a lion, a hippogriff, a dragon...

A few tears had begun rolling down my cheeks as I stared at them, the memory resurfacing and causing my mouth to form a shaky smile. George was looking at them too and I watched as he stood next to Fred for the final time, his breath coming out in shaky laughs and stray tears glistening in the brilliant lights.